Corvis Eralith
"Cylrit,"
My voice was barely above a whisper as I called the name of the Retainer of Sehz-Clar and of Scythe Seris Vritra; one of Agrona's strongest soldiers that, in the novel, was revealed to have always harboured traitorous intentions toward the High Sovereign of Alacrya.
Upon Seris Vritra relied much of my "plans" on how to deal with Alacrya proper—its people, not Agrona's regime.
But now, looking at the husk of a man that I had barely recognized as Cylrit Vritra, clad in the Relic Armour Arthur obtained during his long exploration of the Relictombs, I wondered: what else did change for Cylrit to be here in the Hearth, on death's door and with the Vaultlamp of a Djinn in his hands?
Chul, seizing the little distraction Cylrit allowed himself, lunged Suncrusher against the Retainer, the golden warmace spinning like thrown, incandescent, bolas.
"Chul stop!" I shouted at my nephew, strengthening my voice with mana, but Chul was blinded by rage and sorrow—in Cylrit he was seeing the symbol of all the pain he suffered the last centuries of his life: the loss of his flock.
Cylrit hurled himself away, pushing the ambient mana of the Hearth to fly to his right. The warmace Suncrusher burnt the plates of the Relic Armour with its golden flames, but missed the target.
"Chul! I told you to stop!" I ordered, putting myself between him and Suncrusher, that now lay on the end of the central lobby, destruction around it. "You are destroying the Hearth!"
Chul looked at me, eyes wide in stupor. He turned to Cylrit, the Retainer barely able to stand. What had he gone through before reaching the Hearth? And why? What was happening in Alacrya?!
"What have you done to my uncle?!" Chul screamed, lunging forward at frightening speed. He seized Cylrit's head with both hands, meeting no resistance from the incapacitated Retainer. "Free him from your wretched magic!"
Blood seeped from Cylrit's eyes as Chul's grip threatened to crush his skull.
Black lightning crackled across the Retainer's fist as he drove a punch into Chul's chest. The dark energy strained the eyes unnaturally—unlike the blinding flash of true lightning, this seemed to actively swallow the surrounding light and suck away my vision.
But my nephew didn't even flinch.
"Chul! He is an ally!" I shouted, walking closer to the half-Asura. "This is an order of the Highprince of the Asclepius Clan! Leave. Cylrit. Be."
I called on my King's Force, just as I did in Pitrah to call the Powders to attention. But one thing was using it on some thousands manaless dwarves, another was using it on a Chul Asclepius with the Warrant of War.
My King's Force washed over my nephew, my strength not nearly enough to match his. Chul turned his head.
"You are not being yourself, Uncle!" He exclaimed. "I will save you, don't worry!"
Cylrit tried to mumble something, but the words dissolved into a wet, choking gurgle as he suffocated on his own blood. My stomach violently churned at the sight of him.
Chul was torturing the Vritra-blooded mage with agonizing slowness—now that his mana core no longer flared out of control, he could meter out his terrifying strength with surgical, sadistic precision.
"Chul we need answers from him!" I shouted. "You can't kill him!"
Suddenly, the alarms of the Hearth ceased to be and the next thing I felt was the pressure of an entire mountain on my shoulders; from the bond I shared with Berna I knew Evascir returned to the Hearth and his King's Force was his loud declaration.
Chul and Cylrit too fell to the ground while I managed to stand, feeling the power of Evascir's King's Force, but not its effects.
Like a man looking at a natural disaster from the safety of a refuge I was seeing the catastrophe, but I was not suffering its aftermath.
Without waiting for Evascir and Berna, I hurried to Cylrit's side, checking his health.
"He fainted..." I observed looking at the unmoving yet still, somehow, alive form of the pitiful Retainer.
"U-Uncle," Chul mumbled from Evascir's pressure. I wondered why it got Chul too, but right now I was beyond grateful to the Titan.
"Couldn't you have listened to me for fuck sake!" I shouted at the halfbreed, my attention on Cylrit tho.
I am not a medic! I cursed in my head.
I took the red, currently inactive, Vaultlamp from Cylrit's arms—the Retainer protected it at all costs—and put it beside Avicenna's
Avicenna I put a Vaultlamp beside you, I said. I have no time to give you the details, try to get in contact with them.
'I will try, Justiciar,' Avicenna's replied with barely contained emotional confusion from my news. If she was the Second Djinn Remnant... not now.
"Come on Fate, give me Trucewater," I begged my master, as I conjured a Bubblespell above my palms, but it was blue!
Calm down, you already bring forth Trucewater from the river with Capture and Unleash, Corvis, do it now for their healing abilities.
The Truce-Waters, the section of the river of time created by the Djinnic civilization's Insight, had the ability to return the soul from the river, to heal death itself when I went REtrocurrent through them.
I just needed to keep a constant flow of Trucewater on Cylrit until he could be healed properly.
A spark of teal ignited between my palms as raw water mana condensed into teal Trucewater. Without wasting a breath, I channeled the soothing current directly into Cylrit.
Bolstered by the insight I had wrested from Windsom's Mourning Pearl, my spell held a far more potent restorative power than the natural current of the Truce-Waters themselves.
Cylrit's muscles twitched, his chest moving up and down. He was alive...
Around me the Hearth's Manatech was already at work, the damages caused by Chul and Cylrit almost gone. Then, a low growl broke the silence following the aftermath of all this chaos.
Berna rushed at me, jumping on my kneeling from beside Cylrit and pinning me to the ground as she started to lick my face, her gravity magic changing her weight so she didn't crush me.
"Berna, leave me!" I shouted. "Where is Evascir?"
I pushed her to the side and saw the Titan, in his Lidayoz Sartobel Narmanakaya; he probably forgot to shift from it. The Titan was staring down at Chul and Cylrit.
"Eralith!" The Titan exclaimed, his voice strong. "Chul! I am sorry!"
The pressure on Chul disappeared and my nephew stood up unscathed, mostly.
"Uncle?" He asked, his eyes going from me to Cylrit with fast left-to-right movements. "What... I don't understand..."
"Things are more complicated than black and white Chul," I said. "Evascir call Soleil, Cylrit needs help."
"She is already on her way, Highprince," Evascir answered. "All the Clan is one their way. They will be here at any moment now."
"Can you take him to a Nest?" I asked, pointing at Cylrit.
"As you wish," Evascir replied. "I will bring the prisoner to the Hospital Alcoves."
Prisoner? Nevermind. As long as Cylrit was alive it was enough.
"Sorry, Uncle..." Chul apologized, head bowed. "I thought that foul Vritra controlled your mind, not that you wanted to capture it. I... I was blinded by rage. I saw it with a Vaultlamp and lost control."
"About the Vaultlamp," I changed subject. "Avicenna?"
'My kin has exhausted herself, Justiciar...' Avicenna said, his voice clearly avoidant. 'It is going to take a while for her Vaultlamp to recover enough aether. I wonder how she spent so much in the first place. The Vaultlamps are designed to last thousand upon thousands of years with the minimum expenditure of aether.'
Berna sniffed at the new Vaultlamp. A low rumble vibrated in her throat, and through our bond came a pulse of recognition: the Djinn within still lingered, trapped in an isolation far deeper and colder than that of any ordinary Vaultlamp.
"Her?" Chul asked. "Did you know this Djinn, Wise Avicenna?"
'...I did,' Avicenna said nostalgic. 'Fatima Artira of Ramdad.'
I crouched and took both Vaultlamps in my hands.
"The Clan is soon coming," I said. "Better to inform them."
—
Despite our small numbers scattered across the massive expanse, the Nexus Garden erupted in a cacophony of anxious voices—louder, even, than the crowds of Pitrah just days ago, though we were fewer than twenty.
Save for Soleil and Evascir, who remained behind to guard Cylrit, the entire Clan had assembled in their human forms around the central gazebo of the Nexus Garden.
They murmured restlessly among themselves, waiting for me to address them: whispers of an intruder breaching the Hearth had thrown my flock into complete turmoil.
Ayden was shouting that the bloodlusted Vritra were coming to take the last of the Asclepius and we needed to fight, lead by... me.
Solleandro was fervently telling everyone to shut up and that they were insulting the sacred rules of the Clan by behaving like they were.
Milo was quiet at the edge of the flock, waiting for the chaos to end—he didn't seem to care about the intruder at all, in fact he seemed to want to get away from this conversation as soon as possible.
Chantelle was scared, seeking reassurance from the others, but Ayden's talks of war, Solleandro's aggressiveness and the sight of Ran and Palmyra protecting their egg as if they feared their fairy tale was about to be crashed only served to make her feel even morr frightened.
Aurora was scribbling on a notebook taking in every detail around her, her usual aloofness gone, replaced by shaking nervousness.
Chul was at my right, eyes downcast as he reflected on what had just happened.
Pentival, Nika, Amanessi, Hellio, Cyra, and Savit, the Asclepius members with whom I had yet to share much company in this life, were also clamoring to make their voices heard.
I cleared my throat and the sound silenced all the Phoenixes as I addressed them:
"Whatever you are thinking, it won't be happening."
My declaration, short and firm, stunned the flock.
"While it is true that today someone who was not a member of the Clan entered the Hearth without us knowing ot beforehand," I said. "It was not because of an attack from the Vritra Clan."
I expected someone to argue, but differently from Pitrah no one did it here. Asuras weren't people that defied their lords.
"The Hearth is safe. The only reason why all of this happened was because of the chance that the... newcomer... was accompanied by a Djinn," I continued. "By a Vaultlamp that, knowing of the Manatech and Aetherology that permeates the Hearth, was able to reach us."
Fatima's Vaultlamp was still silent, but it wasn't hard to understand that she was the reason why Cylrit was able to reach the Hearth. If the Vritra alone were able to do this then either them or Epheotus would have erased the Asclepius a long while ago.
Yet the reasons around Cylrit and Fatima being together... I couldn't even start to imagine them. What about Seris? The other Djinn Remnants? The Relictombs themselves?
"Soleil is providing medical attentions to Cylrit—that is the name of our current "guest,"" I said, wanting them to understand well that Cylrit was a guest.
From the few words he managed to say before Chul's rage got him, he proved himself to be the same as in the novel—a potential, invaluable, ally.
Was Seris attempting a different approach to Dicathen with a stronger Agrona that almost got the Legacy years before the canon timeline? Possible, maybe she had been trying to get in contact with the surviving members of the Asclepius Clan in search of allies.
That would be ideal. While Alacrya moved its pawns in Dicathen: Draneeve, Kai, Nylith and the Caduchicil; I could strike back through Agrona's own Scythe.
However for Seris to rely on Cylrit directly? Sending her most trusted advisor and strongest warrior? The situation must have been desperate back in Alacrya.
"Evascir will make sure nothing bad happens if that's what you worry about," I added just to reassure my flock. "He will guard the Library Lobbies while Lugano keeps an eye on the guest and Soleil heals him."
Berna growled as I mentioned Lugano's name, I gave her a side glance and through our bond I somewhat conveyed to not interrupt me.
"And I have forgot to tell you something," I said. "From now on the Highprince of the Asclepius Clan will be known as Nabyun Asclepius Navafarethra of Focularsa."
It took that to gain any sort of engagement from the flock who gasped at hearing that.
"You want to change your name, Eralith?" Chantelle asked.
Really? Is this really what what you have to say? I sighed mentally. Nothing about the Vritra currently in our sanctuary? Well, easier for me I guess.
"Yes," I confirmed. "The same goes for Chul, but that's about him."
"Just like Lord Mordain!" Solleandro exclaimed.
Like Mordain? Soleil mentioned it, Mordain changed his name after the Djinnic god for a reason—was it like mine? To fulfill the continuation between the folk of calm currents and the Asclepius Clan?
"Yes, like Mordain," I said. "You can return to New Farethra now."
"Or we should celebrate the laying of Ran and Palmyra's chick!" I heard someone—Nika—shout. He had always been one for parties and celebrations, more than the others that is...
From what I remembered of my past life, Phoenixes were among the Asuras who loved revelry the most.
I sighed softly, knowing it was far better for them to feast than let their souls erode under the weight of dread.
While they indulged, I would interrogate Cylrit, praying Fate that Soleil's healing arts had already done their work.
—
The Hospital Alcoves were just another of the myriad of incredible things that made the Hearth what it was.
They were a large number of Nests close to each other dedicated as hospital rooms instead of personal apartments. Lugano stood vigil in front of the entrance of one of this, the massive black bear growing a greeting when he saw me and making a softer one at Berna.
"Play with Lugano, I will speak with Cylrit," I told my bond, scratching her ear before I entered the alcove.
Inside the room was very different from what I would have expected from an hospital room both from Earth and from this world—albeit the only hospital I have ever saw was the Royal Hospital, the medical wing of my family's palace in Zestier.
Probably due to the Asuras not needing actual medical care most of the time, the room's inside lacked any sort of medical equipment which, due to the Hearth's advanced Djinnic technology shouldn't have been a problem to provide with.
Laying on a normal bed rather than a hammock with Soleil checking on him was the unconscious form of Cylrit Vritra.
"Milord," Soleil greeted me. "You want to know how the prisoner is doing?"
"Yes, Soleil, thanks," I replied. "But he is not a prisoner."
"Milord, he... nevermind," Soleil sighed, phantom pain crossing her face as she looked at Cylrit—the memories of that fateful day at Taegrin Caelum when Agrona slaughtered most of the Asclepius Clan probably playing in her mind.
"The patient has suffered great deals of damage from decay magic," Soleil explained. "Bludgeoning, slashing, piercing wounds covered his body despite the armour he was wearing."
Soleil gestured to a mannequin on which she places the Relic Armour, which had taken the aspect of tattered black cloak now that it was at rest.
"If it wasn't for the Djinnic craftsmanship he would have died."
"How long do you think it will take for him to wake up?" I asked and Soleil shrugged her shoulders, clearly she didn't care for Cylrit as a patient as much—she was just doing this because I asked, ordered, her to.
"I have burnt away with my flame the Gravefrost in his lungs and overpowered the Soulfire clenching his heart," she further explained. "But his soul almost slipped away. Not, it's like something was keeping it from leaving his body."
My Trucewater, I realized.
"So? How long?"
"Impossible to say," Soleil sighed. "He is not an Asura, nor he is a lesser. He is one of Agrona Vritra's creatures and his scars and wounds narrate a story of continuous fighting to the death for the last decade at least."
Last decade? Cylrit was a Retainer, he obviously must have had to fight, but Seris would have never let him get to this state.
I feared what the reason behind Cylrit being here was; very, very much so.
"I will check on Avicenna," I informed Soleil. "I left his Vaultlamp in my Nest, if he wakes come come and tell me."
—
Any news about your kin, Avicenna?
With Inner Current flowing through my nervous system, teal Trucewater flooding every nerve, I took Avicenna's Vaultlamp and sat on the ground of my Nest, the red Vaultlamp of the other Djinn, Fatima as we suspected, rested on a sideboard.
'No, Justiciar, Fatima's Vaultlamp is still quiescent,' Avicenna replied.
So you know for certain she is this Fatima you have been talking about? I questioned.
'She is, all Vaultlamps were unique even if in aspect they might not seem that much different from each other,' Avicenna said. 'That one's undoubtedly Fatima Artira of Ramdad's Vaultlamp.'
I took the red Vaultlamp too and tried to interact with it, using REmould to activate the ancient artifact like I have done with Avicenna.
Were the Vaultlamps made with a particular Article? I asked.
'Solidarity, Justiciar.'
Breskan then, good to know, I thought as I worked on the Vaultlamp, engraving the Article of Balance on it.
Suddenly, the red Vaultlamp flared red and the voices in my head became from one to two as a feminine voice joined Avicenna.
'Cylrit of Vritra?' Fatima asked, venturing the unknown interlocutor. 'Did the teleportation to Focularsa work?'
Avicenna fell as silent as a rock. How much I wanted to know what the Djinn was feeling.
Cylrit is fine, albeit unconscious, I replied seeing as Avicenna didn't want to speak up. He is currently under medical attention.
'Who...' Fatima's voice ventured when Avicenna finally spoke.
'You are speaking to the Justiciar of Peace, Sage Fatima,' the Djinn said, his tone solemn. 'Corvis Eralith.'
Corvis Eralith? I didn't know Avicenna used my real name in his head, that was heartwarming to hear. I couldn't help but smile, my happiness so sincere that even Berna felt it as she raised her head from her scattered position on the floor.
'Sage Avicenna?!' Fatima's shout was unexpected from the figure I associated with a Sage of the folk of calm currents. 'The Justiciar... but we can't be in the Truce-Waters, I am still in my Vaultlamp and that's for certain.'
'Justiciar, I humbly request your esteemed self to explain to me what has happened,' Fatima asked with a boldness Avicenna would have never had the courage to say.
Yes, Fatima was the Second Djinn Remnant.
'Fatima! By the light of Mordain! You are not going to address the Justiciar like that!' Avicenna chastised. 'Should I remind you that you are talking with Peace itself?'
'I will address the Justiciar as I see fit, Sage Avicenna,' Fatima retorted. 'With respect and without wasting his time by making my requests concise.'
They seem like an old married couple, I joked in my head, not projecting the thought to the two Djinns. Or... is Fatima the wife Avicenna's spoke to me of?
I will try to explain what happened in the littlest time possible, I said as I started to recount the most important things that happened since I met Avicenna.
—
You met Cylrit bleeding and dying in the area of the Grand Library of Mausoleia where you turned yourself inside a Vaultlamp, I said after all explanation were done. And Cylrit obtained your Lifework, am I right?
'Yes, Justiciar,' Fatima replied. 'I met Cylrit of Vritra and then I agreed on helping him as long as he would have brought me here in Focularsa. Although, not even in my most feverish dream I would have hoped to meet you.'
Avicenna listened silently, never posing a question of his own.
What did you help Cylrit with and what was your plan once in Dicathen? I asked.
'Focularsa, Justiciar. The names of the Asuras do not deserve to be pronounced by you,' Fatima replied, something not quite like hate, but very close to it in her voice.
'The Justiciar's people call it Dicathen like the Asuras, Fatima,' Avicenna said. 'Respect his culture.'
'Respecting the Justiciar's culture is what I am doing,' Fatima said back. 'His people should name the continent themselves, or use Focularsa until they make their decision. Certainly not use the name of dangerous beings that will one day erase them just like they did with us.'
Fatima made a fair point. Early on, Avicenna had pointed out that Common Dicathian was nothing more than a dumbed-down dialect of the Asuran language, and Dicathen itself was an Asuran label for our lands.
It was direct validation of what I'd read in the novel: the Asuras had puppeteered the development of humans, elves, and dwarves from the very beginning.
Fatima's resentment toward that cultural subjugation was completely justified, yet she failed to see that the roots ran far too deep to sever now.
The only other candidate to usurp the Asuran language was ancient elven, but it was practically extinct.
Aside from a few isolated Sornèvaines, almost no one used it; my own grasp was limited to isolated terms and syntax, far from conversational fluency.
To make matters worse, ancient elven lacked a concept for the continent at large, since early elves believed the entire world began and ended with the Elshire Forest.
Still, I harbored a quiet ambition for the language. Maybe it could be revived for academic and magical discoveries: an intellectual prestige language, exactly like Latin back on Earth.
I should speak about it to Gideon, I decided.
'Now, Sage Avicenna, I will answer the Justiciar's question,' Fatima said. 'For what Cylrit of Vritra required my help I am not entirely sure. After he escaped the Grand Library, or what remains of it, he spent days trying to contact his former acquaintances to no result. He then stole a device called Tempus Warp and asked me to repair it—that was how we reached Focularsa, but you better ask Cylrit of Vritra himself.'
I hummed. And what about your plan? I asked.
'My original design consisted in reaching the Grand Tribunal of Focularsa here in... Dicathen,' Fatima said, forcing the name from the depths of her consciousness.
What is the Grand Tribunal of Focularsa? I asked dumbfounded.
'I mentioned it to you once, Justiciar,' Avicenna replied. 'I called it the unfinished communal Lifework of Manatech of the folk of calm currents.'
'You withheld information from the Justiciar, Avicenna?' Fatima asked in disappointment. 'How is it that I am not surprised, Sage Avicenna?'
'I told the Justiciar only the information he needed,' Avicenna replied. 'I have not gone into detail because I do not wish to burden the Justiciar more that what he already carries. Whatever was fundamental for him to know, I have told.'
'Quite the blasphemous approach, Sage Avicenna,' Fatima mocked. 'You still think yourself better than the Justiciar that you can dictate what burdens him and what not?'
'The Justiciar is a ten-year-old kid who is seen by so many as a god meant to save them—me and you included, Fatima!' Avicenna exclaimed. 'You do not know who he is. You have not spoken to him. You have not interacted with an Asura that calls the Justiciar "Uncle."'
Enough. Both of you, I said, tired of the two Djinns arguing. Fatima, Avicenna: what is the Grand Tribunal?
'As Sage Avicena said, the Grand Tribunal is the communal Lifework of Manatech of the folk of calm currents,' Fatima answered. 'It was where the representatives of each Legal Body of Focularsa reunited, where the Greatrunes were bestowed to their next user, where the decisions that considered Pax Coronata to a greater stage were taken.'
'It was the nexus of Djinnic politics, Justiciar,' Avicenna entered Fatima's explanation. 'Like the Royal Palace of your family you speak me of, or the Parliament Theatre of the Hearth as Chul explained me.'
I understand, I said and from my knowledge of the novel I thought I knew what the Grand Tribunal could have looked like in this current day and age. Fatima, Avicenna, did it by chance look like... a castle?
The Castle, the floating structure the Tri-Union Council used as their headquarters in the novel, that matched the possible description of this Grand Tribunal.
'Possible. The Grand Tribunal undertook many renovations through its centuries of usage,' Avicenna said.
'It never stopped being expanded and improved,' Fatima followed. Despite their conflicting ideas the two Djinns knew how to work together—they knew it well.
'Everyone in every Faircity looked up at the sky and could see from time to time the Grand Tribunal soaring the highest clouds,' Avicenna promptly continued.
'It is a symbol of Unity,' Fatima proudly said. 'For everyone is represented there.'
'It was a symbol of Balance,' Avicenna followed. 'For the Grand Tribunal's decision never favoured someone over someone else.'
'It is a symbol of Solidarity,' Fatima's voice echoed in my head. 'For all the Djinns work alongside each other for the betterment of Pax Coronata.'
'It was a symbol of Justice,' Avicenna said. 'For being just was the goal of the Grand Tribunal.'
'It is a symbol of Freedom,' Fatima finished. 'For Djinnkind vanquished the chains of war and divisiveness with the Grand Tribunal.'
I... that was a very captivating showcase of the Grand Tribunal, I joked. But jokes aside—what do you hope to gain there Fatima? I don't think the Asuras have left much in there.
In the novel, the Castle didn't have any particular remnants from the time of the Djinns apart from its floating nature. However it was important enough that both Agrona and the Indrath Clan never attempted to destroy it.
'I have brought with me the necessary instrument for my goals, Justiciar,' Fatima said. 'I would have given it to Cylrit of Vritra once we would have reached the Grand Tribunal, but obviously you are far better suited to have it.'
The Vaultlamp flared red and, materialising between my crossed legs, an artifact appeared on my Nest's floor.
A keystone! I exclaimed in my head as I took the peculiar artifact, which looked exactly like one of Arthur's keystones—the Relics the Djinn Remnants gave him to gain Insight over Fate... Peace.
What does it do? I asked Fatima.
'That, Justiciar, is the replica of a Greatrune,' Fatima explained. 'Once activated, it grants a Djinn, or whoever receives it.'
Was it Realmheart, then? Or whatever its original name was before Arthur got it and learnt it through his own of Insight.
I will go to the Grand Tribunal immediately, I decided. Thanks for your cooperation Fatima.
'It is my honour, Justiciar,' Fatima replied. 'Accompanying you will be my chance at redemption.'
I will bring Avicenna with me, I interrupted the Djinnic woman. You need to remain here in the Hearth in case Cylrit wakes up. He is going to need a known voice.